


Oh, Hell No

by MittenWraith



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Gen, Happy Sam, M/M, destiel if you look out the corner of your eye at it, episode 11.10 preemptive coda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 08:51:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5702416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MittenWraith/pseuds/MittenWraith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I have no idea how this happened. I'd legitimately been trying to write spec based on <a href="http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/137125767450/sammyhale-supernatural-11x10-the-devil-in-the">the promo photos</a>, and this is the result. This is the moment it went off the rails right here:</p><p>And now I’m imagining this scenario at a bar later that night, where Sam, Dean, and Cas somehow miraculously manage to get out of the cage relatively unscathed (yes, this is the point where this post veers from speculation into fanfic territory).</p><p>Once again, I've been unable to resist making it a destiel thing (if you squint), because of who I am as a person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh, Hell No

**Author's Note:**

> It should be noted that when I write an outline for a fic, this is pretty much what it looks like. I've edited this up a little tiny bit from the original, but this is how I come up with ideas. This idea, however, seems pretty self-contained, so I decided to publish it for giggles.

Of course they head to the nearest bar to celebrate/get wasted because DAMN THAT WAS A REALLY TERRIBLE WAY TO SPEND A DAY.

So the three of them are sitting at a secluded table trying to mind their own business, too frazzled and relieved to really say much. But some asshat at the next table is drunkenly (and quite loudly) proclaiming to the bar maid that YEAH BABY I HAD THE DAY FROM HELL. YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE THE KIND OF BULLSHIT I HAD TO DEAL WITH TODAY. SOME DAYS I’M CONVINCED MY BOSS IS THE ACTUAL DEVIL.

And at that point Sam just cracks and starts freaking _giggling_ , which quickly progresses to full-body hysterical laughter, banging the table with his hand, tears running down his face. He can barely breathe. Cas and Dean just stare at the whiny pissbaby at the other table, like they can’t believe this jerk is for real. The jerk, in turn, becomes incensed at the way these three clowns have ruined his chances with the pretty waitress, because she’s now looking over at Sam like he’s the most adorable thing she’s ever seen, because everyone knows that looking at a Happy Sam is like seeing the sun come out from behind the clouds.

So the pissbaby gets up and saunters over to their table, spoiling for a fight, because if he can’t win the hot waitress through pity, maybe bravado will do the trick. YOU THINK MY LIFE’S WORTH LAUGHING AT? JUST LOOK AT YOU THREE, THINK YOU’RE SO HIGH AND MIGHTY BECAUSE YOU PROBABLY DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT ANYTHING. SUIT AND TIE HERE PROBABLY HAS A CUSHY CORNER OFFICE, AND THE TWO OF YOU PROBABLY CHOP DOWN TREES FOR A LIVING. LUCKY BASTARDS DON’T KNOW HOW GOOD YOU HAVE IT. PROBABLY SPENT THE DAY TRAIPSING THROUGH THE WOODS HUGGING BABY ANIMALS LIKE A COUPLE OF HIPPIES.

Dean’s too stunned by this unbelievable set of circumstances to do anything but gape at the guy. Sam’s about to suffocate himself laughing, the nice waitress lady is bringing him a glass of ice water and a handful of napkins to wipe his face because the tears are still coming and he’s starting to get all snotty now too (and Dean can’t even remember the last time he saw Sam laugh that hard. Maybe never.), and pissbaby is STILL glaring at them all.

But then he notices Cas is glaring right back at the dude. Dean feels a little prickle of electricity run across his skin, and he knows Cas is about to lose control of his mojo, and Dean’s already suffered through far more drama than any three people should be forced to experience in a single day, so he reaches out and sets a calming hand on his shoulder, reining Cas back in with a quiet, “Hey, Cas, dude. It’s not worth it. Just let it go.”

“Listen to your boyfriend there, little man,” the jerk says, sneering at Cas. And that’s what tips the balance.

Cas is on his feet so fast that the jerk is left blinking between the chair where he’d just been sitting, and Cas staring into his face from a foot away. They’re practically nose to nose, and Cas makes his position abundantly clear.

“I. Am NOT. Little,” he tells the jerk. “This body is exactly the same height as your body.”

The guy just stares back at Cas, trying to puzzle his way through what Cas just said, while Dean stands and sidles up behind Cas’s shoulder, once again trying to calm the situation down, offering the jerk what he hopes is a placating smile. At first Dean's a little surprised that Cas chose to focus on the _little man_  portion of the insult, rather than the _your boyfriend_ part, but he can't say he's upset about it. He's mostly relieved that Cas didn't break out the  _my true form is the size of your Chrysler building_ spiel, and Dean thinks maybe he has a chance to defuse this situation before they get into yet another punch-up. He can still feel the burn in his neck from where Lucifer had him pinned to the bars of his cage, and they're supposed to be here to forget about their aches and pains, not earn themselves new ones.

“Sorry, dude, we’ve just had a worse day than you have,” Dean says, tugging at Cas’s sleeve in an effort to get him to back down. Luckily for him, Cas takes the hint, and he can feel him packing away the mojo, like a bird settling its ruffled feathers. Cas lets Dean pull him away, but he still stands firmly at Dean's side while Dean keeps talking. “Like, you have _no idea_ how much worse. But we’re all still drawing breath, so I think I’m just gonna take my friends here and head out. No harm meant.”

“Like hell, you are,” The guy says, when he notices Sam is now calm and flirting with some serious intent with the waitress he’d had his eye on.

Dean rolls his eyes at the guy, but he can’t help the smile he shoots over at Sam. He could’ve resisted the not-so-covert thumbs up he sends Sam's way, but by that point he’s really stopped caring about anything else. Sam deserves a nice evening, and Dean's gonna make sure he gets it.

“My brother over there,” Dean says, drawing the guy’s attention away from Sam, “You see, he really did spend the day having a not-so-friendly chat with Lucifer. Cas and I had to bribe the King of Hell and his _mother_ to help us break him out. She is not a woman I enjoy dealing with, and I've about had it up to here with Crowley, too, and hiking into Hell with the two of them? Let me tell you, Hell’s… Hell. Same as it ever was. And I wasn’t exactly thrilled about going back for a little visit. At least Cas here had a royal escort this time, and didn’t have to fight his way through armies of demons to yank our sorry asses back out again. See Cas,” Dean says, turning to face him with a grin. “Told you if we drank enough we’d find the silver lining.”

That’s the point where Cas breaks the same way Sam did. The absurdity of this entire conversation, of their entire day. Hell, of their _entire goddamn lives_. He finally cracks, and Dean has to hold his friend up or he’d literally be rolling on the floor laughing. Dean holds Cas while Cas laughs into his shoulder, slapping one hand repeatedly against Dean’s chest, burrowing his face down into Dean's collar. Dean just smiles down at him, absently stroking his back, completely bemused by Cas's uncharacteristic breakdown. It all seems so unfair that it happens while they're out in public, and Dean can't just bask in the joy radiating off the man in his arms. Which reminds him that there's still one problem he needs to deal with, so he hones all that frustration into a weapon and lets it show across his face. In the span of a second he turns from smiling gently at Cas to shooting a death glare at the jerk who’d interrupted their sulking.

Come to think of it, now that none of them were actually sulking anymore, maybe he should be thanking the guy. The death glare slowly breaks into a ridiculous grin, and Dean's suddenly on the verge of laughing, too. He holds on tight to Cas, grabbing at the back of his coat to turn him around so they can present a united front to their antagonist-turned-hero. They stand, still half wrapped around each other, snorting and choking to hold back their giggles, daring him to say anything else.

The guy’s just shaking his head at all four of them, the waitress included. He slowly begins to back away, stumbling over furniture along the way. “You… you people are nuts, you know that? Abso-freaking-loutely nuts.”

As he picks up his jacket when he passes his own table on his way out the door, Cas and Dean both give him a maniacal grin accompanied by a little finger wave. Sam twists around in the booth, and says in as serious a tone as he can muster, "It would be so much easier if we were."

The waitress thinks that's hilarious, and gives the retreating jerk a  _what are you gonna do?_ shrug before collapsing in a fit of laughter with Sam.

“Nuts!” The guy shouts one last time, before fleeing the bar.

**Author's Note:**

> I just needed to record this for posterity, because obviously it's going to be rendered entirely moot once the episode airs. Whatever. For more cracktacular nonsense and irrational tag rambling, come visit me at [mittensmorgul](http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com) on the tumblr.


End file.
